


Way to his Heart

by Azura



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 07:57:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3167354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azura/pseuds/Azura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commander Cullen and Cyrille Adaar get off to a rocky start. Will they be able to repair their relationship and move forward to something wonderful? Birthday fic for Singull!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oxmen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [singull](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=singull).



> This is a birthday fanfic for my dear friend Singull! I'm giving her the first Chapter a day early. The rest should be up by tomorrow!

Cyrille yawned as she left the Chantry, it had already been a long day and she had just woken less than an hour ago. She hadn't closed the breach, but she'd sealed it for a time. That would have to be good enough for now. Now humans were trying to raise her up as some sort of prophet and she didn't particularly like that. She was a merc. She wasn't religious and never planned on being that way. Now she was supposed to be a holy woman? It was almost hilarious. She couldn't rest now though, there was too much to do. She needed to gather a team, the one she took to the breach should be good. Varric was funny and Solas had interesting ideas. Cassandra, as stern as she was, wasn't so bad either. It made a good team. They would go to the Hinterlands, find Mother Giselle and Horse Master Dennett.

Why did all this fall on her again? Right. She survived the blast. Great.

"We have an oxman as the Herald of Andraste? Not just an oxman, but a mage none the less? What are they thinking raising her up like that? Of course the Chantry condemned us!" Cullen was angrily speaking to one of his lieutenants as Cyrille walked past. He didn't seem to notice her as she passed, although his subordinate did and froze mid nod.

She felt the same, in a way, her being a qunari caused a stir and being a mage made it even worse. What she didn't like was how he spoke about her. He just called her an oxman. She felt heat fill her belly as she thought about it. How dare he? Surely he knew how insulting it was. How terrible it felt to be compared to a dumb animal used for manual labor. Of course he didn't, she realized, he was human. Not just human but an attractive human of all things. She had liked him since she saw him. His strong features, the defining scar along his lip, the way his hair looked so soft, but now that was spoiled. He'd called her something she hated. She felt her ears go red and she rubbed at them, she would make him pay.

She considered how she would do it for the entire trip to the Hinterlands. While she spoke with Giselle, as she set up camps, and while she spoke with Dennett. She finally decided after they took out the apostates. If he hated magic so much, then thats what she would use. It took some planning, she would need help executing the idea. Someone would need to be a distraction. Varric would be perfect, he had a prankster streak a mile wide and although he'd rather mess with Cassandra, Cullen would do just as well.

They arrived back at Haven a few hours before nightfall roughly a week after they left for the Hinterlands. The plan was simple. Varric would pull Cullen to the side, ask for pointers in case he need to grapple or something. She would sneak into his office and burn the edges of all of his parchment.

"Curly! Mind if I borrow you for a bit? I really could use some pointers with something and I'm not about to ask the Seeker." Varric leaned against the doorway as he spoke with the Commander. "Hm? I'm a bit busy Varric can't you ask—" Cullen was cut short by the pushy dwarf.

"No, I really need it to be you. You're the only one I know half decently around here and I'd rather it be someone I have history with." Varric looked serious. His expression weary with pretend exhaustion.

"Alright, I suppose I can lend you a few moments to help." Cullen rose from his desk and walked with the dwarf out to the training grounds.

Cyrille took this moment to slip inside. She tried to walk casually enough, make it look like she was supposed to be there, walking into the Commander's office even though he wasn't there. She was fairly sure no one looked suspicious as she closed the door behind herself. Now it was time to get to work. She strode to his simple desk and carefully burned each piece of parchment as her fingers brushed them gently. This wasn't nearly enough. This would annoy him, maybe gain some minor grumbling, but not anger him. Not the way he had angered and hurt her.

His ink pot. She carefully froze the ink as well as the quill that rested inside the pot. That would annoy him as well. Still not enough, she wanted to get under his skin, make his face turn red and his hands clench into fists at his sides. How long had she been in here? Not too long she didn't think. Maybe five minutes? Ten? Varric would keep the Commander busy for at least thirty. Thats when it struck her. The perfect plan. She carefully energized the room, being sure not to disturb anything from is usual place, flipped it all upside down and froze it to the ceiling. She grinned triumphantly. This was perfect. He had only a few options for fixing this. Come find her and apologize, find another ice mage to bring it down for him, or wait until it all came crashing down on its own.

It was perfect. Now all she had to do is wait.


	2. How Dare she?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen searches for someone to fix his office while trying to figure out who he pissed off. It doesn't take him long to figure it out.

Cyrille made her way to the tavern, ordered an ale and sat back. The stories of what happened would start to come in any time now and she couldn't wait. She was in a better mood now than she had been in in weeks. All thanks to Commander Jackass.

—-

Cullen walked into his office after showing Varric some basic grappling moves, he handled them like he had done them before. He was sure Varric knew these things, why was he asking him now? He was a busy man, he needed to concentrate on the Inquisition as much as possible now. He stopped. The office was empty? Then a quill fell to the ground with a tick as it struck the floor. He gazed at the quill as it rolled across the floor. He had to look up, he knew he had to look up. He wished he hadn't. He saw, with horror, that his office was suspended from the ceiling. What in the name of the Maker was going on here? Who would dare do this right now? With so much going on and so much at stake who would dare do this? His face grew hot as he tried to yank his desk down from the ceiling. No luck. It was frozen solid, certainly he could remove his items if he didn't mind breaking them, but that was out of the question. Resources were tight enough as it was without him breaking his desk. It was most certainly ice magic. An ice mage who had a bone to pick with him, but who? The Herald uses ice magic does she not? But why would she do this to him? He shook his head and rubbed at his brow. He took a calming breath. In and out. Slowly. Calm down before facing this problem. He exited his office and slammed the door behind him with a loud thud that rattled the door on its hinges. He hunted down Solas first. The fade expert may know a way to get his office back to the way it was.

 "Solas. I'm in need of your assistance." He tried to keep his voice friendly, but he was angry with the situation. He should be working out military strategies right now. He should be coming up with training regiments. He should be working. He didn't have time for this foolishness!

 "Sure, Commander, How can I assist you?" The elvhen mage rested against his staff leisurely as if he had all the time in the world to stand and chat. It was something that always slightly annoyed Cullen. He acted as if he had no need to rush through the day to get things done. If it wasn't finished by nightfall then he would do it tomorrow. He didn't stress over time.

 "My Desk is frozen to the ceiling of my office. I need help getting it down. " Cullen frowned at Solas. Hopefully he would get a sense of the urgency of the situation soon.

 "Oh? How did it manage to get up there?" Solas looked amused. He thought this was funny. Cullen's frown deepened and his face began to get hot. Deep breath. Let it out. One, two, three. 

 "I don't know how it got there Solas but it needs to come down. I need to get back to work." He tried to sound stern but not angry. This wasn't Solas's fault even if he wasn't acting the way he wanted him to.

 "I see, I'm afraid I'm not well versed in ice magic. Perhaps the Herald would be of more assistance to you." Solas replied gently, he could tell the Commander's temper was near the surface, but It didn't stop the elf from looking amused.

 "Thank you." Cullen replied curtly as he turned on his heel. He asked around, if there were any apostates specialized in ice magic with them in Haven none of them were stepping forward to help him with his problem. They were all still afraid what might happen if caught. He couldn't blame them too much for that, he was an ex templar after all and they didn't feel safe around him just yet. He stepped into the tavern and scanned the room for the qunari mage he sought. There she was. Pink in the face and a couple of empty mugs sat on the rough wooden surface in front of her. She'd been drinking. It was understandable after all she'd been through that she needed to relax for a moment. After her trip to the hinterlands and everything that had happened with the Breach. He was surprised he wasn't drinking as well at this time in the evening.

"Herald, a word?" He stood, arms folded in the doorway. He tried not to look cross, it wasn't working. 

—

Cyrille looked up and saw the Commander. He was pissed. She felt a grin spread across her face at that. Her plan worked. He was pissed and couldn't find anyone else who could solve his problem. She'd made sure that every apostate in camp that knew ice magic was away doing something important before Cullen had the chance to speak with them, of course. He had no choice but to come see her or wait for everything in his office to break.

 "Sure Commander, one moment." She emptied her mug before she stood and walked over to him. "What do you need?"

 "My office seems to be frozen to the ceiling. You wouldn't know anything about that would you?" He sounded angry, but even his angry voice was attractive. She hated that. She hated that even though she didn't like him at all his voice could stir things in her belly.

 "Is it? I wonder why someone would do that." She played at innocence that both of them knew was false.

 "I wonder that myself actually. But the fact remains that I need help getting it down." He was trying to remain calm, she could tell he was counting seconds in his head as he breathed slowly and deeply.

 "That so? And you want an _oxman_ to help you? Wow. I never thought I'd see the day that you'd come to lowly ol' me to help you with something as important as fixing your office." She spit the words at him, gone from a playful buzz to anger. More quickly than she would have liked, but she was fed up. He was going to understand what he did. 

 That was the reason why she did it. The reason she disliked him. He looked shocked for a moment, unsure as to why she would say that. He hadn't thought any more about the crude name he'd called her since that day and he had no idea she'd heard it. He suddenly felt cold and somewhat sick. How disgusting he was to have called her that. He didn't have to like her, or like that she was so important to their cause. But he did need to respect her. Even if she is a qunari. This was why she did that to his office, but why confront him that way? Why not just speak to him?

 "I'm very sorry I called you that. I had no idea you'd heard..." He sighed, he felt like he was making excuses, and he was, he knew that he was but he didn't know what else to say. "That doesn't excuse it. I apologize for saying it. Please, will you fix my office and we can speak about it more like civilized people?" He regretted his choice of words as soon as her face twisted into anger. He knew he'd said something wrong.

 "Civilized people?! You think I'm uncivilized now too? And what? You're sorry? That’s all? Tch." Cyrille's anger bubbled up, burned in her face and ears and nearly blinded her. How dare he call her uncivilized?

 "I didn't mean that. Look I'm sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?" He rubbed at his forehead. Worried he'd said something wrong once more.

 "Say I'm Sorry, Lady Adaar." Cyrille was going to humiliate him. Make him bend to her will.

 "I'm Sorry Lady Adaar, happy?" Cullen didn't mind calling her that, it made sense to speak to her like that. She was worthy of respect. He had to remember that. Now he just wanted to get back to work. 

 "No, I'm not happy. Bow when you say it." She crossed her arms over her chest and stood tall over him, glowering down at him.

He glared at her then. Being forced to bow before her was too much for him. This was ridiculous, a waste of time, but he did it. Slowly, angrily he went to his knees. "I'm sorry for how I've acted Lady Adaar, it will not happen again."

 "It better fucking not happen again. Don't you ever call anyone that again. Don't let me hear you use a slur against anyone, not the qunari, not the elves and not the dwarves." She stormed off to his office and yanked his items down pushing only a small amount of power to melt the ice as she did so. the chair splintered as she pulled it from the ceiling but he could deal. He'd figure out how to fix it or get a new one. It wasn't her problem. She stormed off after she had his office back in place, water dripped onto his papers as she left the room. 


	3. Enough.

Weeks flew by as they worked towards getting in good with the Chantry, well at least good enough to stand before them. Cyrille's anger towards the Commander dropped to a simmer. Months later they collected the mages from Redcliff. Time travel wasn't something she ever wanted to experience again. Not with Dorian, not with anyone, she would be happy to stay in her own time until the day she died. Dorian seemed happy to be back to where they belonged in time as well. Her anger towards the Commander was all but forgotten now. He had begun to respect her. He never faltered in calling her Lady Adaar. He hadn't used anymore slurs either. Then they closed the breach and Corypheus attacked. Cullen was distraught. He'd been so doubtful of her before. How could he have doubted her? This brave strong woman who stood against Corypheus and a bleeding Archdemon all on her own. Who stood so they could escape. He wished he could go back, erase what he had said from existence all together. But it was too late now. She was dead and he could no longer apologize any more than he already had.

When she came back he couldn't believe it. She had to be holy didn't she? How else could she have survived? How could she have survived both the explosion at the conclave and the avalanche? Over the next week as they traveled he worked his way closer to her. Speaking with her about the fight with Corypheus. He tried to hide his reverence for her but he was sure he failed. Her small smirks as he gently asked his questions made something tighten inside him, squeeze at his heart. How could he have thought of this amazing woman as something lesser? He was ashamed.

"Lady Adaar, What you did..." He began and trailed off, how could he tell her how much he admired her for what she did? How awed he is by her? How could he possibly explain how he felt?

"Commander you don't have to say anything about it." Cyrille looked at him as he struggled to find words, and her ears began to heat. Curse him for being so pretty.

"I just wanted to say that what you did was admirable. You're...more than I could have ever expected." He fell back then, a blush crept up his neck.

Cyrille's ears burned now and her face turned pink. He admired her?

—

Skyhold was something else. A keep deep in the mountains, more defensible than the Commander's wildest dreams. He was excited as he ran through the repair reports and he sent soldiers to help rebuild parts of the keep saying "Hard labor won't soften you. Work and train daily and you'll be stronger than any army out there." A few grumbled complaints, but no one allowed the Commander to hear. He worked harder than ever before. He watched the Herald in a new light, the Inquisitor now, He reminded himself. Maker was she beautiful, now that he allowed himself to see past her horns. She was strong, a force to be reckoned with. Yet graceful as she worked complicated spells. She was kind to those who deserved it and hell to those who didn't.

He had found his desk frozen to the ceiling a few more times since the first experiance. Each time it irritated him less. The last time he actually managed to laugh about it. Today he chuckled as he found his quill stuck to his inkpot once more. He probably sent a report that was too long this time. None of the other advisors had the pleasure of having encountered her ire so she didn't play pranks on them. He was pretty sure she was terrified of Leliana, anyone who wasn't was a fool, and Josephine would probably cry if a prank was played on her.

"Need a quill Commander?" Cyrille asked lightheartedly as she held out a new quill and inkpot for him. A grin stretched across her face. Not ire this time, playfulness.

He smiled in return and laughed, "Yes, I'm afraid mine has taken to liking the cold a bit much." He took the inkpot from her hands gently, his calloused fingers brushed hers and the warmth of her hand struck something within him, a gentle blow that had his neck heating. Her ears started to get pink, did they always do that when she blushed? He needed to pay more attention. "Thank you, for the ink I mean. Maybe we can do this again sometime?"

"You want me to bring you ink more often Commander?" Her voice was amused but her ears were a telling shade of pink.

"I...er...Thats not what I meant. " He was flustered. Why did he always get so flustered around women that he liked? Wait, he liked her? When did that happen? How could he have allowed this to sneak up on him like this? After Amell he had been able to squash any feelings he had for people before they became too much. How could he let this happen?

She laughed gently and walked to the door "Maybe I'll bring you more ink tomorrow." She called as she left, barely hearing his curse at how flustered he became. 

The following weeks things progressed, each day there was a touch, each day it would be firmer or the touch would linger, each day they would speak more. They would get to know each other, did she know he had a sister? Did he know she had a brother? He was still with the mercenary group she left. She enjoyed cooking. He had to try what she made sometime. She was also, quite frankly, amazing at chess. He shouldn't have been surprised, she was in every way a better person than most. Every day he became more flustered, he tried to be suave and play it cool like Varric suggested. He tried being funny like Dorian suggested. He tried everything but always ended up stumbling over himself around her. He was going to have to try things differently. He was going to have to try to be frank with her. See where it lead. He couldn't handle this life of little touches and secret smiles anymore. He had to know if what they had was real. If she felt the same as he did.

It was a full month before he finally built up the courage to talk to her. The ball at the Winter Palace was later that night, this should have been the last thing on his mind; but he couldn't get her out of his head. He needed a clear head tonight, and so did she. This couldn't wait any longer. He found her in the library laughing over something, he could only imagine it had to do with the spell book Dorian was holding.

"Lady Adaar, a moment?" He ventured carefully.

"Hm? Sure. " She said her goodbyes to Dorian. From what he gathered Dorian would be one of the escorts she was bringing to the ball this evening. They walked in silence for a time, climbing to the top of the battlements. He stopped in a spot that was seldom patrolled, it overlooked a ravine that wouldn't make sense to siege. It would be the perfect place for this conversation. No one would hear if he was shot down.

"Lady Adaar, This.. Maker this seems forward." He took a deep breath before he continued. "Things between us have been going nicely." Stupid. Nicely? That was an understatement, but she was smiling as he spoke, amused at the growing red at his neck and ears.

"Go on." She prompted.

"What I mean to say is.. Maker preserve me, I really like you. I..want to move forward...be together. In a relationship." His face was hot. He was stumbling now over the words and embarrassing himself. How could he speak to troops and make battle formations and then fall to pieces while speaking to the Inquisitor?

Cyrille laughed softly. "About time you asked Cullen, I was starting to think my hints were going nowhere." Her ears were pink at the tips as she spoke, "I thought I'd made it obvious that I..care for you."

He didn't think, he just kissed her. His arm snaked around her waist and pulled her close, his hand cupped the back of her head gently and brought their lips together. His his lips rough from wind and weather, hers soft and slick with whatever she oiled them with. Her lips were sweet, a hint of honey in the oil. Their lips moved together, softly at first but building with need. Heat started to build slowly, warmth pooled in Cyrille's stomach and spread leaving her lightheaded. She pressed into Cullen seeking more, but he wasn't ready to give her more just yet.

He pulled them apart regretfully. "Later, For now you have a ball to get ready for."


	4. May I Have This Dance?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dancing and smut ahead!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter and is the one with the smut! I hope you've enjoyed the fic!

Cyrille arrived at the ball flanked by Dorian, Cole, and Cassandra. There were gasps through the nobles as they saw her. Talk started shortly after, an Oxman as the inquisitor? So it was true! How thrilling it was. Cyrille was less than thrilled. The only thing that kept her polite smile plastered on her face was the thought of kissing Cullen again. How her lips had tingled for hours after that kiss... She wished she could sneak off with him here and have more, but they were here for something important. They needed to warn the empress, or try to at least solidify Orlais. 

Cyrille spied on nobles as they gossiped, made small talk, the more sarcastic she was the more they liked her. Humans were so strange... She did what she could to give the Inquisition a good name. That was all anyone could ask of her. She'd spotted Cullen a few times being accosted by Nobles, even asked him to dance once. He refused, bluntly. At first she thought it was because she was a qunari, that he was ashamed to be seen dancing with her and her eyes began to sting. He clarified that he had been asked so many times tonight that his response was automatic, that he simply didn't know how to dance. She felt better at that, but still slighted. She didn't care if he couldn't dance well, she just wanted to be close to him. After all the time they had spent with quick stolen touches, after that kiss earlier, she needed him against her. 

It was fine. If he didn't want to dance then she would find someone who did. Lady Florianne seemed interested enough. They danced and the court watched, awed at the sight. They danced as though they owned the ballroom and there was no one there to take it from them. All the while playing a very dangerous game. Keep being sarcastic. Cyrille thought as she twirled the woman in front of her. It will get me through this. The dance ended soon enough and everyone cheered. Cyrille stole a triumphant look at Cullen, was that jealousy on his face? 

The night progressed quickly after that, in the end Cyrille stood beside Empress Celene, Lady Florianne was captured and Gaspard exiled. Cyrille was, quite frankly, exhausted as she stood outside on a balcony as the revelry began to wind down.  

Cyrille picked at her sleeve as she finally caught a breath. She was ready to leave this palace, it was beautiful but honestly it was a gigantic pain in her ass. She could deal without having to meddle in human politics ever again, if only she could convince Josephine of that. She turned as she heard footsteps behind her.

“Lady Adaar, May I have this dance?” Cullen asked her shyly. He stood bowed, hand extended and a flush to his cheeks. “I hope I won’t tread on your toes too much.” He chuckled.

“I would love to.” Cyrille felt a grin spread across her face, happier than she had been all night. Finally she was getting her dance, finally she would get to be close to her handsome Commander who smelled of soap and metal, the hint of lyrium curiously missing. It was a question for another time however, as they twirled around the balcony bodies pressed close together, heat growing between them through the thin material of the formal attire they both wore. She could feel the hard ripple of muscle beneath his shirt. She could feel how strongly he held her to him, as if he were afraid if he let go she would fly away and never return. She felt safe and warm, and as their bodies moved around the balcony, and a heat began to grow low in her stomach, fanning outward as his hips brushed hers.

Cyrille cleared her throat. “Ser Cullen, perhaps we should take this somewhere more private? I would love to dance with you more freely.” The tips of her ears turned pink and she hoped her meaning was clear. By the looks of the blush spreading along his neck and cheeks, it was.

“I… think that is a very good idea.” Cullen’s voice was deeper than usual, his eyes glued to the beautiful woman in front of him. This game had gone on too long between them.

It took several hours to detach themselves from the Nobles of the Winter Palace. Disapproving looks from Josephine let Cyrille know that what she was doing, trying to escape the ball before it was over, was dreadfully impolite. She didn’t care. She’d done what they came there to do, what did it matter if the nobles thought she was rude now? Cyrille took this time to subtly tease Cullen, see how long it took for his resolve to snap.

Her fingers brushed his chest as she spoke to him, danced across his thigh as she passed him, brushed along the slight bulge in his pants when shadows covered them. She could feel his eyes boring into her skull. The heat that was in that gaze would melt her if she met it. She chose not to. Instead, she continued her teasing, her gentle touches and soft whispers as they exited the palace. She had no idea what she was doing to him.

* * *

Finally, Skyhold. Cyrille dismounted her horse and strode inside, fully aware of the Commander walking stiffly behind her. She didn’t detour, she didn’t stop to speak with anyone in the throne room. She went straight to her room. When they were finally alone she turned and met his eyes.

They were dark and heated as he pulled her to himself frantically. He crushed his lips against hers as though she alone had air and he was suffocating. His arms engulfed her pulling her tight against him, his hardness pressed against her thigh. His tongue swept along her lips, begging her to open up, allow him to penetrate her in some small way. She obliged him, her lips fell open to his sweet assault. Heat was building, moistness began to collect between her thighs and the only thing she could think was that his clothes needed to come off.

In a flurry of kisses, lips, ears, necks, and collar bones, their clothes were discarded, thrown and forgotten into the far corners of the room. Cullen’s rough callused hands dragged up her sides to cup her soft breasts. His thumbs swept over the gentle peaks of her nipples. Cyrille gasped softly, “More” fell from her lips. His lips kissed and moved against her neck down to her collarbone, he nipped gently before gathering the hardened bud of a nipple into his mouth, his rough tongue swirled around as he sucked it gently. Cyrille felt magic crackle along her skin as the heat grew within her. She couldn’t allow him to dominate her this completely. She needed to fight back.

She pulled him from her breast and kissed him greedily as she regained control of the situation. He was not going to undo her first. Her soft fingers trailed along his thigh before grasping the hard length that hung before her. The skin there was so soft, so unlike the rest of him. He was wide and long, and perfect in every way. Of course he was perfect, she thought, just look at the rest of him. She brought her hand up to the tip of his cock slowly, a shuddered breath fell from the Commander as it twitched in her hand. Her thumb swirled around his tip collecting the moistness that had begun to bead at the head. She led him to the bed and pushed him to sit. He was going to enjoy this.

She kneeled before the Commander and looked up at him, his eyes were dark and needing. She slowly licked the head of his cock, savoring the slightly salty taste.

“Cyrille please.” Cullen gasped, his rough hands grasping at the blanket on her bed. She wasn’t about to give in that easily. With a satisfied growl she sucked him into her mouth, just barely, just enough to allow him the feel of the hot wetness that he’d see soon enough.

Cullen groaned, his hands found themselves on her horns and she shivered. He could certainly keep his hands there, he could control the whole thing if he wanted, she would allow it. He pressed gently, urgently, he needed more than she was giving.

She obliged. She lowered her lips over his length, and savored the feel of him sliding along her tongue and hitting the back of her throat before she pulled back and started again. She started slowly, legs pressed tightly together as his moans became more desperate, as his hips started to buck towards her mouth, as his powerful hands pressed at her horns. She sucked him harder, took him deeper, and gave him everything he wanted and more. Her hand drifted down her belly to tease her moist mound as she did so.

With a shout he shattered. He spilled into her throat as he gripped her horns tightly, so tightly she was momentarily afraid he may try to snap them off. He relaxed after a moment. His hands freed her horns as she pulled away slowly.

“You seemed to like that.” Cyrille smirked up at him, face flushed and hand still buried between her legs.

“I did indeed. You seem like you may need a little assistance yourself.” He chuckled and it made her fingers stop their torturous circles. A shot of pleasure straight down her back settled in her stomach. He pulled her up and laid her on the bed before kissing her slowly, so gently she could barely believe it was the same man who kissed her just moments before.

He broke it gently and smiled devilishly at her, “I think it’s time I repaid the favor, Lady Adaar.”

“Call me Cyrille.” She wiggled impatiently beneath him, he was going to use his tongue on her? She hadn’t expected that of him, not to say she wasn’t happy about it.

“Cyrille then.” He chuckled as he kissed her neck and nipped it gently, His fingers teased her nipples into hard peaks, her breath caught in her throat as he gathered one in his mouth and stroked it with his tongue, sucking it gently before popping it from his mouth.

“Cullen…please...” She was impatient. It felt good but it only fanned the already unbearable heat within her. She needed him to do more.

He laughed as he kissed down her stomach and paused at her mound. He looked almost unsure of how to proceed. She was almost sure he’d never actually gone down on a woman before, except maybe in a brothel, even then she doubted he’d gone down on her.

“Spread it gently, use your tongue to explore, the bud at the top is very sensitive, be gentle with it.” Her face was flush as she spoke. She couldn’t believe she was explaining how to do this.

He nodded and did as she said, slowly spreading her lips he nuzzled his face against her. His nose brushing against the sensitive bud of her clit as his tongue darted out to taste her. She gasped and her toes curled. His tongue explored slowly, methodically. As though he was trying to map her every curve inside.

“Cullen…Please more…” She purred, he was taking too long, teasing too much. She needed him to do more.

He brought his tongue to her clit and swirled around it gently before he sucked at the spot. Cyrille’s hips lifted off the bed as the sensation hit her. “Cullen!” She was so close and they’d barely started. They’d gone too long, too much teasing. This first time was going to be rushed, and that was okay. They had time to slowly tease each other into oblivion some other time.

She propped herself up and looked down at the man between her thighs, his eyes half closed as he attended her. “C-Cullen…please. I want you to fuck me.” She bit her lip as he suckled hard on her clit before he pulled back.

“I don’t think I’m quite done with you here yet.” He chuckled before he buried his face between her legs once more. His fingers found her entrance and he pushed them into her slowly as his tongue teased at her clit. Cyrille’s fingers gripped his hair as she moaned. She was going to cum, there was no way around it. He wouldn’t stop until she did. His fingers curved inside her as he pumped them, slowly, so fucking slowly she wanted to scream at him to go faster. Then just as the pressure became too much, it was much too much, she fell to pieces. She rocked her hips against his face as she came, a spark of magic frosting the blanket beside her.

Her face was flushed, her ears red. He grinned up at her as he licked his lips. He was as hard as he was before, and she wasn’t finished yet. “You seemed to like that yourself Cyrille.”

She growled as he kissed him hard. He was going to listen to her. She wanted his cock buried between her thighs, she wanted to feel him move inside of her. He was going to do it now. 

Cyrille flipped him to his back, she may be a mage but she was also qunari, she was strong and she could pick this human up if she needed to. She straddled his hips once he was propped up on the pillows. “Tell me you want this.”

“Cyrille, I wouldn’t have come this far if I didn’t.” He smiled at her gently as he pulled her face to his. They kissed as she rocked her hips against him, rutting hopelessly against the hard cock she wanted inside. She’d need a free hand to help it along. Then, it slipped inside, Cullen’s hand had guided it home within her. She gasped and threw her head back. It wasn’t as large as a qunari’s, but it was large enough to fill her, make her squirm in pleasure. She needed more.

She began to rock her hips slowly, a low purr erupting from her throat as she rode him. He gripped her hips tightly, eyes squeezed shut. “Cullen look at me.” Her voice was low, she wanted to watch his face as he came undone.

“Cyrille!” He called as he opened his eyes and stared at her, straining to keep them open as he bit his lip. “Maker’s breath! Move faster!” He groaned and bucked hard inside her.

She gasped, his cock felt amazing as it entered her. She wanted to move faster as well but she wanted to watch him, when she started to get more carried away she wouldn’t be able to watch his face as well. But that is the way of things she supposed. She began to rock her hips faster, harder against him. Watched him as he bucked and struggled to fuck her in return. He wanted nothing more than to be in control of this, he wanted to be the one on top she could tell, but this was her turn. Next time, maybe he could be on top. She rode him until she felt herself tightening, the burning hot bubbling feeling in her stomach growing to nearly unbearable again.

“Cullen! I’m…I’m going to—!“ She cut off as she went over the edge. She clinched on him hard, spasming around his cock milking his orgasm from him as well as they both went together, frost covering the blanket around them as she found release. She collapsed against him. Completely spent and unable to move away from him.

Cullen wrapped his arms around her and moved her off his cock, a low groan erupted from him as he withdrew. He kissed her softly, lovingly, adoringly.

“You’ll be here when I wake?” Cyrille smiled at him tiredly, the worries of the day completely erased for now.

“Of course, if you’ll have me, I’ll always be here.” Cullen smiled at her and kissed her once more before they both settled in and fell asleep. Hopefully next time it wouldn’t take months of little touches to drive him over the edge.


End file.
